…and to be honest my *own* past even seems immeasurably distant sometimes, like oh my god who on earth was that awkward painfully earnest boy who was me when I was last in Rome nineteen years ago; Alles Vergängliche / Ist nur ein Gleichnis; so it goes.

Anyway thank-you dear museum curators, I appreciate the work you do, I don’t mind you don’t have the famous guys’ beds, we see the past dimly across a dark gulf of interpretation anyway…

(the Keats-Shelley house were even like hey it’s not *our* fault we don’t have the bed, the Italians burned Keat’s bed because he died of TB in it, but here’s a bed that looks like his bed maybe.)

both the Goethe house and the Keats-Shelley house that I also visited were cutely apologetic about not having any original furniture, like honey I don’t mind if you don’t have Goethe’s bed anymore it’s ok. (Perhaps they just feel overshadowed by the Goethehaus in Weimar where they do have his bed.)

Ok what I *actually* did was walk around a lot, eat carbonara, visit my old pal Goethe, and sit drinking coffee or negronis while reading @adapalmer.bsky.social’s new book on the Renaissance — which is highly entertaining, even if you’re not a recovering history professor.

He also wasn’t totally wrong I *do* 3-bet less than the Game Theory Optimal sometimes 🤷🏻‍♀️.

This was taken after I’d finished everything I had to do with the food, hence the beatific expression.

🤯

I also had problems with the oven which was disconcertingly tiny and in was Celsius and had a convection fan that you couldn’t turn off, with that and not knowing what half a pound of cream cheese was in grams I have now officially lost all my Britishing Skills. :(

(had met my mum’s cisgay friends the day before whereupon I proceeded to shock and fascinate them with descriptions of my FFS.)

It went well and was delicious although turns out “room temperature” butter in a Scottish farmhouse kitchen early in the morning in winter is a rather different thing from room temperature butter in my Seattle apartment, so.

oh yes that’s of course the real reason I’m wearing it - I love my Barbour jacket despite its Tory lady vibes.

hot mean and bi, that might be the closest you can find in Seattle?